


Time

by galactic-pirates (stillsearching47)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post-Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 19:01:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15588585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillsearching47/pseuds/galactic-pirates
Summary: They had been through so much, and they would go through even more. It was day nine of their trip into the depths of space to find Fitz. Jemma was certain they would find him; that wasn’t what was keeping her awake. It was what happened next.





	Time

_‘I have no doubt that you will find him’_

Jemma sighed, Coulson’s last words bouncing around her brain. She pillowed her head on her hands, staring blankly at the ceiling above her bunk. Her eyes traced the faint join in the metal for what felt like the millionth time. It was day nine of their trip into the depths of space to find Fitz. She was certain they would find him; that wasn’t what was keeping her awake.

It was what happened next.

She turned her head, the glowing dials of the alarm clock mocked her with the cliché 3am and her next sigh turned into a groan. The oblivion of sleep was what she sought. Honestly after everything they’d been through she felt that sleeping for a week still wouldn’t have been enough. She was _tired_ but that didn’t seem to matter. It was so frustrating, she felt like punching something or bursting into tears. Her greatest strength was currently her biggest weakness - she was always thinking.

Her mind never stopped. As a scientist that was utterly brilliant but as _Jemma_ it was bloody awful. It was like the elephant in the room. When she didn't want to think about something, then it took up permanent residence. Distraction was her friend, and sleep was her enemy (or rather _trying_ to sleep), because the future was so uncertain.

They’d left a world in chaos. Talbot’s actions had barely been a blip on the radar compared to the destruction wrought by Thanos. Half the world had turned to dust and disappeared. The immediate consequences of suddenly driverless cars, or planes without pilots, and things of that ilk, were nothing next to the fear and panic which engulfed the world. World leaders were gone, the powerful didn’t like to feel vulnerable, and almost everyone had lost family. People wanted answers but more crucially they wanted someone to blame. Thanos was gone, untouchable somewhere in the cosmos, and it was human nature to turn on easier targets. To turn on those who had lost the fight.

But it wasn’t The Avengers that she worried about or even the world itself. Earth was always in danger, that had sort of become ‘just another day at the office’. The ‘snap’ itself should be preying on her mind but it wasn’t. She didn’t know whether her parents had survived and she hadn’t tried to find out, it was better not to know. Fitz could have turned to dust inside his stasis pod, this could all be for nothing, but she knew in her bones he was still out there. It was a little odd that the entire team had been spared but then that was the nature of randomness; all of some and none of others, rather than an equal amount from all.

Jemma growled, and with a quick movement grabbed her robe, shoved her feet in her slippers and crept out of her bunk. She wasn’t getting any sleep tonight. The cure was just more poison but anything was better than staring at the ceiling with nothing but her thoughts for company. One of the storage pods had been commandeered as a rec room at some point. A couch, a TV, it reminded her of the Bus and simpler times. Until now she’d never used it.

Specialists had a lot more downtime than scientists. True they had intel to go through, and a lot of physical training, but they also had a lot of 'waiting around for something to happen'. Whereas scientists were always busy, if they weren't analysing what the field teams brought back then they were inventing new toys for them to use. A scientist’s work was never done - until it was.

Before. _Before_. She had wanted a break. Jemma’s mouth twisted, the word honeymoon tasting like ash on her tongue. Oh they had been desperate for a break, for the madness to stop. Now? Now she only wished she could be that busy again, to fill her mind with science and nothing but science so she wouldn’t have to…

_Fitz_.

Jemma closed her eyes and bit her lip. In the dead of night it should be safe to cry but it felt wrong. She took a deep breath and grabbed the remote, bringing up the selection of videos stored on the system. There was a definite science-fiction theme. Coulson … Jemma’s nails dug into the palm of her hand. She knew his prognosis, knew he had likely already passed on, and they had left May behind to handle it alone. That was what May had wanted - had demanded actually - but Jemma’s stomach still cramped in sympathy.

Bile filled her throat as she clicked play on her choice. Then there was _this_ , the cure that was just more poison.

A lot of people could watch their relationship problems play out on the big screen in romantic comedies. She couldn’t because funnily enough they didn’t cover time travel, or being stranded on an alien planet, or trapped in a virtual reality. Fortunately, science-fiction had her covered, there were dozens of examples - except when it came to the consequences.

Very rarely did the movies and TV shows acknowledge the truth, that dead was still dead. Fitz was alive but he was dead and she just couldn’t forget that, she just couldn’t stop thinking about it and that was the problem. May had lost Coulson forever, she hadn’t lost Fitz. A sob escaped her throat and Jemma grabbed at the box of tissues.

It had been a losing battle against the tears, and the TV always tipped her over the edge. That was half the reason why she watched, it provided an excuse and a defence should someone appear, the other half was that it did fill her brain enough to numb the pain slightly.

“This again?”

Jemma spun round so fast, her vision swam. Leaning in the doorway, clad in comfy grey sweats was Mack. Hurriedly Jemma wiped at her face. “I was just going to bed actually.”

“You mean you just got up,” Mack said knowingly. He strolled over and took the seat next to her. “You need to stop watching this junk. I know we’ve probably all had enough of robots but...”

“That’s very kind.” Jemma smiled weakly and started to stand.

Mack’s hand, warm and gentle, grasped her forearm and she sank back down. At some point her eyes had moved to the floor. Events had overtaken them so they’d never talked about her tricking him to break Fitz out, and she really didn’t want to do it now. That was not a 3am talk, not when she was this tired.

“The framework messed us up.”

Unbidden Jemma felt her head turn, her eyes snapping to meet Mack’s. She had expected to see judgement in his gaze, to see disgust or anger. That would have been easier than the sympathy that was there. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes and Mack handed her a tissue, his eyes turning distant as he continued.

“When we were in the future I was so angry. Hope … I told Yo-Yo that it hurt more losing the framework than it had for real. What kind of man did that make me?”

“A human one!” Jemma exclaimed. “May told me that it felt like another life, just as real as this one, and all those years of memories …”

“Exactly,” Mack said roughly. He stared intently at her, his hand enveloped hers and he squeezed. “That’s exactly my point. You can grieve Jemma.”

“What … I don’t …” Jemma couldn’t look away, but she didn’t understand. That was the problem - she was grieving and she shouldn’t be. “I have no right.”

“You have every right! Turbo is gone.” Mack bolted to his feet. There wasn’t room to pace or he probably would have. “That’s why you are watching these right?” He gestured to the TV, which abruptly Jemma realised was still playing.

The crew members of Destiny were dying one by one on the recorded video. They were watching their own deaths, or rather the deaths of their alternate selves. It was a time loop and the episode would end with this crew also dying. The crew that lived on would congratulate themselves on surviving and not think twice about the versions of themselves that died. After all _they_ hadn’t died, right?

That was what bothered her the most, that nobody cared.

“He didn’t miss much,” Jemma repeated but the words sounded hollow even to her ears. She drew her legs up, hugging them to her and shrugged. “It’s just like amnesia I guess.”

She’d done this song and dance with herself so many times, and it always just circled back to the fact that Fitz was dead, but he was also still alive and they were going to find him. What was she supposed to feel?

“But it’s not,” Mack said softly.

Jemma shook her head. “No it’s not.”

Mack nodded and his understanding was the final straw. Jemma gasped, choked, as the tears just flowed. A beat and Mack was holding her, she buried her face in his strong chest. She couldn’t breathe she was crying so hard. She had fought against her tears, she had hidden them, and this was like the dam breaking. She might have cried before but this was a _release_.

A glass of water was under her nose. She was burning, her head throbbed, but her heart was lighter. Her hand shook as she took the glass, the water a balm to her scratchy throat. Jemma blinked, and Yo-Yo came into focus.

“So turtleman are you going to pick the movie or what?” Yo-Yo asked, a blur and the screen stuttered, before catching up and the familiar staccato tune of twentieth-century-fox began. “Oops too slow.”

“It’s 3am,” Mack objected weakly.

“We’re in space. It’s always night,” Yo-Yo reasoned, squishing in between them on the couch.

Jemma laughed. The first genuine smile since Fitz’s death crossed her face. She knew that she and Fitz were stronger together but it wasn’t just them - it was the team. Her team, her family; they fought, they fractured but they hadn’t broken. She had been feeling so guilty about her own feelings, that she had tried to deny them, to bury them which had been like acid, devouring her from the inside.

May had pushed them away. She’d wanted time alone with Coulson, which was fine, but it was what came after that bothered Jemma. She had been avoiding the others, hating the well-meaning comments and hiding her feelings. However, she had just been shown how they were stronger together and May deserved that strength, no matter what she thought. May didn’t have to do it alone, none of them did.

Also, Jemma hadn’t forgotten the Doctor and how Fitz had been hearing him for a while. The framework with his existing brain trauma had been a recipe for disaster, months of solitary with Hale and all the worry had just compounded the problem. She was determined that this time they would deal with it, this time the world could wait for them. For all of them.

They had been through so much, they would go through even more but they had earned a little time. Time to heal.


End file.
